Review by Mladen on March 5, 2021.

With the old Striborg, you knew what you're getting. The best anti-advertisement for Tasmanian forests one could think of - a few minutes into the trademark wall of distorted sound and there's already paranoia. You're almost definitely in a forest, it's probably night, you can't exactly see where you're walking, but you're damn sure there's something out there that might get you. And it's raining. And you're miserable, cold and looking for your way back home, but you're afraid because, just around the corner, there might be a beast waiting to do anything between messing with your hair and devouring your flesh - you just can't tell and you're so overwhelmed that you can't even bother to think of the possibilities. And let's not even mention the ghosts, the shadows, and the aliens, or whatever it was. But, in a way, it was still a safe place because, at least, there were no humans. A mental home for the seasoned misanthrope made entirely out of traditional black metal instruments and the nastiest keyboards this side of a wet UFO stranded on a hill covered in moss. But it was all just Striborg, just doing what Striborg does, making old Darkthrone sound like a symphonic band, all the while casually taking black metal to the next level, seemingly without even trying. Because he hates all of us, and we got all the effort from him that we, the human scum, deserved.

But, the old Striborg is no more. This, the new Striborg, has no guitars. Or drums, or bass. It's something called "blackwave" and it's already his second album in the "new" style. It's - shudder - all electronic. With beats, effects, synths, bleeps and stuff. And, of course, I had to ask myself - what do I get now? Did he go all the way to whatever the electronic artists do that I, the metal guy, don't care about? Like, maybe, you can take Striborg out of a forest, but - can you take the forest out of Striborg? Is it - gasp - techno, or dance music? And, thank Quorthon in Valhalla, the answer is no.

Yes, it's all electronic. And it's still colder than Norway. If you remember the numerous ambient instrumentals and interludes from the old albums, Blackwave will feel like a continuation and an improvement. Somehow, the atmosphere is still there but it's just... more. More out there. It might not be a forest, but it's definitely going through some other spaces, depending on the track. Some connection points are still here - those unmistakable vocals for example, distorted to inhuman hell and back. Or the way the keyboards carry the darkness with them - if your brain was conditioned by the Striborg of old, you will instinctively recognize it's the same artist. He's just using other means to the same end - an end with no humans in sight to help you get out. It's seductive, innovative, diverse enough to keep you listening, but bleak enough to make you wonder where you are. Personally, I don't know. It could still be a forest. Or a wet, muddy suburban road too far from the city. Or a rooftop of a ruined building, beneath a starry sky. Or a bloody, smelly basement. Or is it the smell of wood in an old, haunted house? For all I know, I could even be on Mars, alone, smoking my last cigarette and waiting for Elon to send more beer. Striborg is still outside, outdoors, visiting more spaces than before, and the spaces still aren't safe.

So, it works. It's still unmistakably Striborg. Where the first one, Instrumental Trans-Communication, was curiously gloomy, mostly great but still rough around the edges, Blackwave is Striborg with a total command of sound, stereo field and emotions. He knows what he wants to do, and does it without mercy. It's not all just about the experience - a dirty and fashionable word nowadays - with no substance. Blackwave is full of ideas. From nearly-human ghost choirs, over the unsettling surprises, dissonant rhythms, straightforward beats, curious bells moved by something unknown, whispers, screams, murmurs, cosmic winds, to the sounds that might be from an 80s video game console, Striborg somehow made it all work. It's still a wall of sound, just a wall of different ones. As someone said, the music is not only about the notes. It's also about the spaces between the notes. And, on Blackwave, the spaces are possessed.

Rating: 9 out of 10

Review by Mladen on March 5, 2021.

With the old Striborg, you knew what you're getting. The best anti-advertisement for Tasmanian forests one could think of - a few minutes into the trademark wall of distorted sound and there's already paranoia. You're almost definitely in a forest, it's probably night, you can't exactly see where you're walking, but you're damn sure there's something out there that might get you. And it's raining. And you're miserable, cold and looking for your way back home, but you're afraid because, just around the corner, there might be a beast waiting to do anything between messing with your hair and devouring your flesh - you just can't tell and you're so overwhelmed that you can't even bother to think of the possibilities. And let's not even mention the ghosts, the shadows, and the aliens, or whatever it was. But, in a way, it was still a safe place because, at least, there were no humans. A mental home for the seasoned misanthrope made entirely out of traditional black metal instruments and the nastiest keyboards this side of a wet UFO stranded on a hill covered in moss. But it was all just Striborg, just doing what Striborg does, making old Darkthrone sound like a symphonic band, all the while casually taking black metal to the next level, seemingly without even trying. Because he hates all of us, and we got all the effort from him that we, the human scum, deserved.

But, the old Striborg is no more. This, the new Striborg, has no guitars. Or drums, or bass. It's something called "blackwave" and it's already his second album in the "new" style. It's - shudder - all electronic. With beats, effects, synths, bleeps and stuff. And, of course, I had to ask myself - what do I get now? Did he go all the way to whatever the electronic artists do that I, the metal guy, don't care about? Like, maybe, you can take Striborg out of a forest, but - can you take the forest out of Striborg? Is it - gasp - techno, or dance music? And, thank Quorthon in Valhalla, the answer is no.

Yes, it's all electronic. And it's still colder than Norway. If you remember the numerous ambient instrumentals and interludes from the old albums, Blackwave will feel like a continuation and an improvement. Somehow, the atmosphere is still there but it's just... more. More out there. It might not be a forest, but it's definitely going through some other spaces, depending on the track. Some connection points are still here - those unmistakable vocals for example, distorted to inhuman hell and back. Or the way the keyboards carry the darkness with them - if your brain was conditioned by the Striborg of old, you will instinctively recognize it's the same artist. He's just using other means to the same end - an end with no humans in sight to help you get out. It's seductive, innovative, diverse enough to keep you listening, but bleak enough to make you wonder where you are. Personally, I don't know. It could still be a forest. Or a wet, muddy suburban road too far from the city. Or a rooftop of a ruined building, beneath a starry sky. Or a bloody, smelly basement. Or is it the smell of wood in an old, haunted house? For all I know, I could even be on Mars, alone, smoking my last cigarette and waiting for Elon to send more beer. Striborg is still outside, outdoors, visiting more spaces than before, and the spaces still aren't safe.

So, it works. It's still unmistakably Striborg. Where the first one, Instrumental Trans-Communication, was curiously gloomy, mostly great but still rough around the edges, Blackwave is Striborg with a total command of sound, stereo field and emotions. He knows what he wants to do, and does it without mercy. It's not all just about the experience - a dirty and fashionable word nowadays - with no substance. Blackwave is full of ideas. From nearly-human ghost choirs, over the unsettling surprises, dissonant rhythms, straightforward beats, curious bells moved by something unknown, whispers, screams, murmurs, cosmic winds, to the sounds that might be from an 80s video game console, Striborg somehow made it all work. It's still a wall of sound, just a wall of different ones. As someone said, the music is not only about the notes. It's also about the spaces between the notes. And, on Blackwave, the spaces are possessed.

Rating: 9 out of 10

Review by Felix on September 18, 2023.

I do not exactly know why, but the global scene does not pay enough attention to the art of Netherland’s Infinity. This band delivers very well arranged black metal since 20 years and seven full-lengths. It’s remarkable that they never changed their style significantly, but they also never fell victim to predictability. Even though the listener is already familiar with their general direction, the Dutch devils are able to spend their compositions a lot of exciting melodies, dynamic outbursts and gloomy sections. This mix has always resulted in an interesting album and The Untamed Hunger does not hurt the tradition. It is another meticulously designed output whose more or less melodic black metal casts its spell over the listener.

I probably need to clarify the use of the term "melodic". I do not mean it this way that Infinity’s songs are overly harmonic. Let’s pick out 'Hakathriel'. Its mild opening sequence could have been found under the pillow of Steve Harris, but the song houses thunderous, pretty violent chapters as well. (By the way, it’s a very strong track that makes up for the solid, but not outstanding 'Ortus Luciferi'.) No, I use the word “melodic”, because Infinity have a knack for very expressive melodies. They cause a great impact on the general quality of the material while conveying melancholy, loneliness and hopelessness. Moreover, they are the main reason why the compositions do not lack depth. The fact that Infinity always give their individual songs enough time to develop their full strength plays an important role as well. Black metal should not be metallic fast food, even though some short tracks of the last Azaghal full-length seem to indicate something different.

Infinity’s songs are still free from any kind of barbaric or inappropriately brutal components. Their style is influenced by Swedish bands that were or still are able to give their unholy art an elegant element. Of course, I am speaking of formations such as Necrophobic or their brother project In Aphelion. Needless to say, this approach only works with an adequate, professional production. Any form of lo-fi underground sound would kill this type of lightness which seems to hover above things. But The Untamed Hunger is not to blame for a negligent sound. Quite the opposite, it is somewhat polished, but completely dark and without the slightest tinge of sterility. After so many years in business, we can be sure that the Dutch duo has a clear vision concerning its sound and it is able to realize its intention. Thus, the album sounds absolutely authentic, especially the more or less typical but still passionate and raw vocals of Balgradon Xul.

Is it necessary to mention that we do not find a weak song here? As far as I remember, Infinity would still have to write their first boring piece. It’s an almost flawless discography and new highlights like 'Infernam Aeternam' or the title track track lengthen my imaginary “Best Of Infinity” compilation, which has been already quite opulent before. Artwork and booklet also add value to the output, because their stylish design reflects Infinity’s non-vulgar way of proceeding. Therefore it’s a bit sad that the brilliantly intense and excessively attacking closer already heralds the end. But if you give yourself the name Infinity, then I expect nothing less than never ending creativity. Given this situation, I am already eagerly awaiting the next masterpiece of the two competent protagonists.

Rating: 8.4 out of 10